


A New Moon

by Hayleythewriter



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Canon Compliant, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gay Keith (Voltron), I swear, KLANCE RIDE OR DIE, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith is going to return, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Pining Matt (Voltron), and it's kind of Matt/Lance, bisexual Matt (voltron), but I stan KLANCE, but he'll learn, eventual Klance, klance, memes are invovled, sorta - Freeform, you think it's Matt/Lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-17 03:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12356625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hayleythewriter/pseuds/Hayleythewriter
Summary: Lance is upset that Keith quit Voltron, but then Matt Holt moves into the castle. Matt has all the qualifications to be his new rival: he's competitive, he's smart, he's hot-- uh, hot headed!(a klance fic disguised as a Matt/Lance fic)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I watched season 4 and I HAD to write this

Keith quit Voltron.

He stopped being a paladin, and joined some Galra gang. Okay, the Blade of Marmora was an important ally and extremely helpful organization to restore peace and harmony, whatever. They didn’t have any giant metal animals, so they weren’t that cool. 

Lance was smashing ‘a’ on his controller, leaning forward, and gritting his teeth. He was going to beat this level. If he could defend the universe, he could get to freaking level five of this dumb video game Pidge programed. Pidge had started it up, and then immediately set off to track down someone who knew someone who knew something about her brother, Matt. 

Lance wasn’t going to be seeing his family anytime soon. And he certainly would not be quitting Voltron. 

_Waaa waaaa_ , the screen faded to black, and a skull and cross bones appeared. 

He didn’t beat the level. 

Lance pulled himself up and threw down his controller with a huff. He didn’t even like this game anyway. It was an annoying game, that always pissed him off, and started fights, and he was glad to be done with it. He gave the controller a small kick for good measure, and left to go find someone to hang out with. 

\- - - 

“Hey! Pidge is back!” Hunk exclaimed. 

Lance watched the green lion approach with Hunk, Coran, Allura, and Shiro. Pidge stepped out of her lion, grinning down at the mice that had rushed to see her, and then gestured to the man behind her, “Hey everybody. This is my brother, Matt.” 

“Hey everybody,” Matt spoke, with a hopeful smile. 

Lance could feel shock exuding from his teammates. After all this time, Pidge did it. As the realization sank in, the excitement grew. Allura and Coran kept looking from Matt to Pidge, noting the similarities between them. Shiro was grinning like a child on Christmas, and Hunk was tearing up. Lance felt like he was about to bounce off the walls. He was so happy for Pidge, he wished there was an emergency confetti canon on the ship. An intergalactic family reunion called for confetti. 

“Matt, this is Lance, Hunk, Coran, Allura, and of course, Shiro. You, uh, know him.” 

Shiro was at Matt’s side in an instant, pulling him in for a hug. “It’s good to see you, Holt.” Shiro gave him a squeeze. Matt closed his eyes, remembering all those times he’d dreamed of exactly this. Of course, in his dreams he’d reunited with Shiro and his family on Earth, but a space palace was just fine. They pulled apart, and Matt grinned. 

“I can’t believe my sister found you before finding me,” Matt joked, and Shiro put an arm on his shoulder and laughed. 

Pidge interjected, “Technically, Keith found Shiro.” 

“And so did I,” Lance spoke up. 

“Technically, you found Keith,” Pidge smirked. Lance let it slide, because this was a happy, family moment, and because hearing someone mention Keith sort of felt like talking about a ghost. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet the brother of Pidge,” Allura stepped forward, beaming. “Allow me to welcome you to the castle.” 

Matt did a doubletake. He physically looked at Allura, looked back at Shiro, and then swerved his head back to look at Allura again. He instantly saw a frame of roses and glitter form around her beautiful face, and heard the distinct saxophone melody of Careless Whisper start to play. 

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Matt considered going down on one knee right then and there, but she was obviously alien so she probably wouldn’t understand an Earth marriage proposal. 

Lance felt a flare of frustration, like he’d just died on the last level of a video game but hadn’t saved since level two. He glared at Matt, furiously. 

Allura’s cheeks turned pinker than usual, and she gave an amused laugh. Shiro glanced at his long lost friend, equally amused. Hunk just snorted. The only paladin Lance liked at the moment was Pidge, who rolled her eyes and slapped Matt’s arm. 

“You’re embarrassing me in front of my co-workers,” she yanked him toward the hallway, “C’mon, I want to give you a tour!” 

\- - - - 

A varga later, Lance was waiting at the kitchen table, sipping his milkshake patiently. He would not let brain freeze affect him (again). Suddenly, Pidge and Matt strolled into the dining room, obviously another stop of their tour. 

“And this is where we eat and stuff,” Pidge gestured, “and this is Lance, again. He’s the old blue paladin, and the new red paladin. It’s complicated.” 

“So you’re like the purple paladin,” Matt nodded at Lance, appreciatively, “because you can pilot either-“ 

“I’m going to stop you right there, Pidge’s brother,” Lance stood and pushed in his chair. Matt shut his mouth and quirked his eyebrows at Pidge. Before she could speak, Lance continued, “I’m totally onto your little scheme. I know your game plan. I can see the gears whirling away in your think tank.” 

Pidge nodded, “Yeah, this is about an average amount of Lance’s ridiculousness. You’ll build up tolerance, soon enough. The rest of us are immune by now.” 

“He knows what I’m talking about,” Lance narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger gun at Matt. “He’s planning to make some moves on Princess Allura. Well, I won’t stand for it.” 

Matt choked on a laugh, while Pidge choked on her disgust. 

“I’m sorry,” Matt tried to match Lance’s seriousness, “are you two together?” 

“Yes,” Lance firmly nodded. 

“No!” Pidge scrunched up her face, “Gross. Matt, I want to show you my room.” 

“Lead the way, Pidge,” Matt smiled down at his sister, and Lance felt his own heart swell. He could feel the familial love radiating off the pair, and it made smile despite himself. Pidge grabbed Matt’s arm and started walking toward her room. Lance was going to let them go, but Matt called over his shoulder, 

“We’ll finish this conversation, later, Pidge’s friend.” 

\- - - - - 

Dinner with Matt on the ship had been a new experience. Lately, Lance felt like he’d been monologuing at the table, while occasionally Hunk laughed. But by bringing home Matt, Pidge had also brought home hope. 

“Shiro was such a teacher’s pet,” Matt dished, and Lance internally decided to call a truce until he could confront the girlfriend stealer after dinner. 

“That is such a lie,” Shiro seemed revived with energy and smiles, “Holt, you were top of the class.” 

“There’s a difference between being the smartest, and being the teacher’s pet,” Matt smirked. He turned toward his thoroughly entertained audience, “Shiro brought an apple to every teacher on the first day of school. And he used to babysit Professor Throne’s kids once a month. For free.” 

Shiro flushed, but his smiled never wavered, “It’s called respecting your elders. Maybe you could give it a try.” 

“Being two years older than me does not make you my elder,” Matt wagged his finger at Shiro, “However going to bed every night at 9, and actually liking bran muffins, that does.” 

“A week of this goo, and you’ll be dreaming of bran muffins,” Hunk warned Matt, who laughed. 

“As long as you’re making milkshakes, I’m not worried,” Matt assured him. “Hey, is there a chicken on this ship? Cause, if we had eggs, and made a flour substitute,” 

“The possibilities would be endless,” Hunk finished his sentence, slowly nodding, “Dude. I love the way you think.” 

“Dad used to make the best muffins,” Matt looked to Pidge for confirmation. 

“We’ll get all the ingredients ready now, and then when we find him, we can celebrate with baking!” Pidge planned excitedly. 

Matt glanced back at Shiro, “They’re banana, not bran. So don’t get your hopes up.” 

“Are muffins an Earth delicacy?” Allura inquired. 

“Muffins aren’t, but I most certainly am,” Matt shot her a love struck smile. Flowers sprung up around her face, and he started hearing the first few notes of Careless Whisper again, until Lance’s voice blurted, 

“Right in front of my salad?” Lance looked personally victimized by Matt. Why’d he have to flirt with Allura, and ruin the most fun family dinner they’d had in a while? 

Matt, Shiro, and Allura all looked confused, while Pidge and Hunk tried to stifle their laughter. 

“Is this supposed to be the salad?” Matt squinted at Lance’s goo. 

“No, Matt, it’s a meme,” Pidge clarified. 

Matt looked over Lance with a new appreciation, “You know memes?” 

Lance straightened up his shoulders and puffed out his chest, “Of course. Do you?” 

“I may have missed a few recent ones while being lost in space,” Matt allowed, “But back at the Garrison, I was a meme king.” 

Hunk fist pumped the air, “Yes! A fellow meme connoisseur.” 

“Are memes an Earth delicacy?” Allura titled her head slightly. 

“Yes,” Lance, Pidge, Hunk, and Matt answered in perfect unison.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt challenges Lance, Lance challenges Matt, and Voltron starts their tour.

Lance felt tired, and he wanted to go straight to his bedroom and pick up a controller. His shoulders sagged as he padded down the hallway. They’d just done their first ever Voltron Show, but it hadn’t gone over well. Obviously, he had given an Emmy/Oscar/Tony award winning performance, but by the end of the disaster, there hadn’t been a single audience member left to applaud him. Or to pledge to fight against the Galra.

“Hey, Lance,” Pidge’s door slid open, and Matt Holt popped his head out with a Cheshire smile. 

Lance’s eyes locked onto Matt’s, and suddenly his video game plans were completely forgotten. He had a conversation he needed to finish, “Matthew Holt. Just the rebel fighter I wanted to see.” 

“Matt is not short for Matthew,” Matt said quickly, “but let’s talk.” He stepped into the hallway, the metal door swooshing closed behind him, and Lance cleared his throat. 

“I know you want to date Allura, obviously. She’s the most perfect, kind, beautiful woman in the universe, but you need to back off! You’ve been on this ship for two seconds, and if anyone around here is going to be dating Princess Allura, it’s going to be me. That’s only fair!” 

Matt looked Lance up and down. Then settled into false concern, “Oh. I see what’s happening. You’ve taken one look at my perfect hair, rocking body, and sweet moves, and you’re feeling insecure. Happens to the best of us.” 

“What- no! I’m the most secure I’ve ever been,” Lance placed his hands in his pocket, suddenly feeling warm as Matt studied him. “I just don’t want you to flirt with Allura. It’s not cool, man.” 

“Alright, _man._ ” Matt mimicked Lance, while slowly nodding in agreement. “Bro. Dude. I won’t flirt with Allura.” 

Lance straightened up, and folded his arms. Then he unfolded them and return them to his pockets. “Oh. Great. Glad we cleared everything up.” 

Matt hummed in agreement with a weak smirk, before adding, “But I can’t help it if she flirts with me.” 

“She’s not going to flirt with you!” Lance thought this had been too easy. Dammit. What could he say to make Matt back off? This wasn’t even about Princess Allura. Honestly, she was a great leader, and stunningly beautiful, but he recently he’d thought of her as more family than a love interest. This was about his sudden aversion to love. The thought of a couple in the castle was enough to make him break into hives. He wasn’t normally so bitter, but recently all romantic sights made him frustrated. So he’d be damned if Mallura was going to be rubbed in his face. 

“I didn’t know you were so afraid of a little competition,” Matt stepped toward him, the air suddenly flammable. Just one spark was needed to start a challenge. 

The word ‘competition’ made Lance reevaluate his stance, “I bet I’m more competitive than you, Matthew.” 

“Matt isn’t a nickname for Matthew,” he repeated himself, but his amusement at Lance still shone through his words. He would be the happiest man in this reality if Allura agreed to go on a date with him, but these were the paladins of Voltron. These were Pidge’s friends. He would never want to rock the boat- er, spaceship. But this little confrontation with Lance was the most entertained he’d been in . . . a long time. Matt liked the guy. So it was all in good fun. He wondered if Lance had gone to the Garrison, and if they'd been there at the same time. His internal tangent was interrupted by Lance, 

“If you’re challenging me, then I accept. And if you’re not challenging me,” Lance thought for a moment, feeling a fuzzy, energetic pulse, he’d been missing in life lately, “then, I challenge you!” 

“Challenge accepted,” Matt put his hands on his hips and struck a heroic pose. “We’ll see which of us can win the heart of Princess Allura first. Whoever she kisses, is the ultimate master of romance.” 

“Let’s make it whoever she kisses on the cheek first,” Lance defined the rules. “And you’re so on! Prepare to lose like you’ve never lost before, because I am a master with the ladies. And the princess and I are already best friends. I know exactly how to woo her. And when she undoubtedly kisses my cheek first, you have to swear to stop hitting on Allura.” 

Matt extended a hand, “Let the cheesiest pick up line win.” 

\- 

“Good morning, everyone,” Allura entered the dining room, dressed and ready for a new day of show business. Matt stopped his conversation with Pidge and smiled at her. 

“Good morning, Allura! I was wondering if you had a map?” Matt’s question made Allura pause in thought, and brought Shiro, Lance, and Hunk’s attention toward the both of them. She pulled out the chair on the other side of Pidge, and across from Lance, and sat down. 

“A map of what?” She leaned forward so she could see Matt around Pidge. 

Matt leaned his elbow on the table and shot her a sparkling grin, “Your eyes. Because I’ve gotten lost in them.” 

“Booo!” Lance gave a big thumbs down, that Allura barely registered. She could tell this was supposed to be romantic, though she didn’t quite understand the metaphor. Allura didn’t know much about Matt, just what Pidge had told them all, combine with the short stories Shiro had given last night, but he seemed sweet. It saddened her to think about the trials he, and Shiro, had endured at the hands of the Galra. Some fun might be exactly what he needed, and what they all wanted deep down. 

“I’m sure you say that to every Princess,” Allura smiled back. The twinkle in her eye made Lance’s jaw drop to the table, and Hunk clap his hands and laugh. 

Pidge scooted her chair back, with a wrinkled nose, “Why do I have to be in the middle of this?” 

Lance tuned out Matt and Allura, and the rest of these traitors. He obviously needed to step up his game. He’d been so confident that Allura would brush aside Matt’s advances the way she had his. But this breakfast was a battle, not the war. 

He needed to strategize. 

\- 

“Alrighty Paladins, I know yesterday’s show was, um. . .” 

“Bad?” Hunk supplied. 

“Embarrassing,” Pidge huffed and pushed up her glasses. 

“A rough start,” Shiro said amicably. 

Coran nodded vigorously. “But that’s all in the past now! Today’s show is for university students, and I collaborated with a special co-writer to make the script more appealable to younger audiences!” 

“Who changed the script?” Pidge fiddled with her wrist until a light blue projection of the new script appeared for her to glance through. 

“That would be _me,_ ” Lance put his fist on his chest, trying to look scholarly. “I know, I know. A master of words walks among you.” 

Hunk glanced to the side, and shuffled his feet, “Hey buddy, you didn’t write anything in that would, er, publicly humiliate me right?” 

Lance wrapped a reassuring arm around his shoulder, “Of course not! This script it what we in the business call realistic, so obviously you’re a total badass. You’ll love your lines.” Hunk patted his back twice, feeling relieved. 

“And do I still have to be Keith?” Allura swung her head toward Coran, trying to appeal to his sympathy, “All the brooding hurts my cheek bones.” 

“Yes!” Lance blurted, urgently, “You have to be Keith, and you have to follow all the stage directions exactly as written! Exactly!” 

Pidge, Shiro, and Allura all looked at Lance, surprised at his insistence. 

Hunk leaned toward Pidge and muttered, “What a diva.” 

\- 

The show was beginning. Matt sat front row, center, in a sea of aliens. They were on the planet Tryx, and this species appeared mostly humanoid, with pink skin, three arms, and three noses. This theater had a balcony and house seats, so he estimated there was probably 500 aliens in attendance. Matt’s attempt to start a conversation with the alien next to him (“So, are there any chickens on this planet?”) had been met with blank stares and silence. Of course, the aliens then immediately turned to each other and started debating wheter or not Voltron was real. 

When one of the aliens argued it couldn’t be real because Altea itself was a giant conspiracy theory, Matt cringed. Another alien started shouting about a different conspiracy, and he understood why they needed to spread the good word about Voltron. Must be hard to get allies when some people were out here swearing the black paladin had been cloned and replaced by Zarkon. How did they come up with this stuff? 

Suddenly, a giant spotlight hit the navy blue curtain, and the lights of the auditorium dimmed. Matt got comfortable in his seat, hoping his sister, Shiro, and the rest of the paladins could make a good impression. Or at least provide some entertainment. 

“In a world,” Coran’s telltale voice was broadcasted over the audience, but the stage remained empty, “where the Galra Empire enslaves millions. Where Empire Zarkon rules with an iron fist, and the people have no representation in government. Where all hope appears to be lost. Only one superweapon has a chance of defeating this tyranny. And that superweapon is. . . VOLTRON!” 

Suddenly, the curtains flew open, and Shiro stepped into the spotlight. Though the lights made him squint, Matt had to admit he looked like a picture perfect hero. 

“I’m the leader of Voltron! Shiro the hero!” Shiro brought his script closer to his face, read the stage directions, and then did as they said and put his hands on his hips in a pose. 

Matt nodded in appreciation of the nickname. He always loved a good rhyme. 

“I’m Pidge! The brains of group, and the left arm of Voltron!” Pidge walked onto the stage, but then followed the stage direction and posed on the left side of Shiro with her arms folded. Matt couldn’t keep the proud smile off his face, as he whispered to every alien around him, “That’s my little sister.” The lady (?) alien behind him leaned forward and shushed in his ear. 

“I’m Keith! The right arm of Voltron, and the angry one!” Allura struck a pose on Shiro’s left, folding her arms and glaring like Zarkon was in the audience. 

“I’m Hunk! The left leg of Voltron, and the cool one!” Hunk had already read his stage directions, so he did an impressive spin kick in the air, and then flexed next to Pidge. There was light applause, and a cough from the audience. 

“And I’m the right leg of Voltron!” Lance leap from the wings, landing on Allura’s right. “Also known as, loverboy Lance!” he grinned and posed with fingerguns. 

Matt scoffed in a way that clearly meant to cover a laugh. He leaned forward, now realizing Lance must have had a helping hand in the script. 

“Oh no, team! We’re under attack!” Hunk shouted, pointing stage left, where a giant papermache Zarkon head was wheeled on stage remotely controlled by Coran in the wings. 

“It’s Zarkon!” Shiro shouted, feeling silly. He was starting to consider hiring a real playwright, because as much as he valued Lance and Coran, the audience didn’t seem too enthralled. 

“I know! I will rush forward and kill him by myself!” Allura tried to sound as gravely and angry as possible. Her forehead was starting to cramp from glaring. 

“No Keith!” Pidge held out a hand, as directed in the script, “by the power vested in me by science,” she paused and gave Lance an incredulous look, “I will defeat him with my calculations. Someone hand me a protractor.” 

“I can take him!” Hunk lunged forward, showing off with karate chops that would give the karate kid a run for his money, “My lion is the strongest!” 

“Listen up, team! The only way to defeat Zarkon is with all of us working together! We all have different skills, and through the power of teamwork, we can accomplish anything!” Shiro smiled down at his script, knowing that Lance had written those lines. Maybe he’d been paying attention to his pep talks after all. 

“Shiro is right!” Lance turned his attention to Allura, “But before we head into battle, can you tell me what my armor is made from, Keith?” 

Allura read the stage directions, and then walked towards Lance, rubbing a hand on his shoulder, “metalic material?” 

“No,” Lance did his best impression of a telenovela star, “boyfriend material.” 

Matt sat straight up, and gripped the sides of his seat. What was going on here? Was Lance seriously using this entire show as a way to flirt with Allura? That wouldn’t actually work. That couldn’t work. Several aliens around him who had looked a little sleepy before suddenly began exchanging excited whispers. 

The paladins onstage were shocked, as none of them had read through the script completely. Before Shiro could get mad, he became distracted by the feeling of focus turned to him. He realized this was the first moment in the show that the audience was actually actively paying attention. He decided to wait until the curtain closed to reprimand Lance. 

Allura was surpsied by Lance’s line, but then remembered they were onstage and she stared back at her script. “Um, oh, Lance! Don’t try to distract me with your perfect hair, rocking body, and sweet moves.” 

Matt slapped a hand to his mouth. That paladin had plagiarized those adjectives straight from their conversation. It didn’t make him feel any better when he heard the delighted squeal of the lady alien behind him. 

“Before we save the galaxy, I have to ask,” Lance continued, not needing his script at all because he’d spend three hours after breakfast furiously thinking up these lines, “are you a sun? Because my life revolves around you.” 

A chorus of ‘awwww’ rose from the audience, as well as heartfelt applause. Pidge narrowed her eyes at the audience, trying to understand why they were having such a strong positive reaction to Lance being an idiot. Maybe clapping actually meant booing in their culture. 

Allura said her next line, “Lance, you make me swoon! But now isn’t the time for romance. We have to defeat Zarkon. We have to focus.” Allura made herself glare again. 

“Now I know you’re half alien. Because you’ve abducted my heart,” Lance said, with such sweet sincerity in his voice, Matt was impressed. As was the alien next to him, who began to gently weep. 

Allura studied her next line. It said: 

_Keith: I love you, Lance! [Keith kisses Lance on the cheek]_

Allura looked up, and heard sniffs from the audience, who had obviously been extremely moved by this make-believe love story. She looked at Lance, who was staring at her without the mask of bravo he’d worn before. His eyes were calm, though from the way his chest rose and fell, his heart must have been beating fast. He looked hopeful, yet frozen with anticipation. Waiting for her. 

She rested a gentle hand on his shoulder, and gave his cheek a quick peck, before backing away. 

“I love you, Lance,” She’d barely managed to get out his name before her voice was completely covered by the uproarious applause. Pidge gasped as a majority of the audience sprung to their feet, a standing ovation. Hunk pumped his fist in the air, and Shiro spotted Matt in the front row, who had gotten up from his seat with balled fists. 

Matt didn’t clap, but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. Lance had actually done it. Now he couldn’t flirt with Allura, which bummed him out because he’d already brainstormed a notebook full of pickup lines early today. Maybe he could find someone else to use them on. 

Lance beamed at Allura, happy that his plan to win had gone smoothly. Shiro had the next line. 

“Alright everyone! Get to your lions! It’s time to form Voltron and defend the universe!” 

The paladins pantomimed their formation, and with a swift pretend punch, the Zarkon paper machete burst, spraying confetti everywhere. The audience cheered so loudly, no one could hear the bow music Coran broadcasted. Each paladin’s bow was met with intense applause, but the cheering for Lance and Allura was obviously louder. 

Matt, still standing like the rest of the aliens, clapped for Voltron’s bow, and found his eyes being drawn to the overjoyed smile lighting up Lance’s face. Maybe he could still find a use for those pickup lines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blade of Marmora Member: Hey Keith, check out this video of Voltron, it's trending on seven different planets
> 
> Keith: No thanks
> 
> oooooooooooooooh, he'll see the video eventually. He. Will. See it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge writes a script and the paladins facetime Keith

“Voltron! Voltron! Can we get a picture?!” a group of hysterical fans cried as Coran and the paladins boarded the castle. Lance blew them a kiss, Hunk happily waved, but there was no time to stop and chat. Once inside the castle, Pidge jumped onto the couch where Matt was already waiting. Shiro and Allura spoke with heads close, analyzing the audience reaction.

“I’m glad the show’s over. Could you tell Lance wrote the script?” Pidge asked her brother, as Hunk and Lance soaked in Coran’s ecstatic praise for their performance by the entrance. 

Matt folded his arms, still a little annoyed at his defeat, “Oh yeah. He’s a real Shakespeare.” 

Pidge glanced up and adjusted her glasses, “I wonder if Coran would let me write the next script. That way the science would finally be, well, actual science.” Her smile turned devious, “and I can think of lines that much more accurately summarize Keith and Lance.” 

Matt leaned back, “So Keith used to be a paladin?” 

“He still is,” Pidge assured him, “He’s just, um, taking a break and working with a Galra rebel group. Since Shiro can pilot the black lion again, it all worked out.” 

“The Blade of Marmora?” Matt guessed, in a low voice. In his time with the rebels, he’d heard tales of the Blade. Half the people who talked about them considered them a myth, but Matt always believed in their existence. What he couldn’t believe was, “they allowed a human paladin to join their force?” 

Pidge rubbed the back of her neck, hesitantly, “Well, Keith is actually half human, half Galra. So, it _really_ all worked out.” 

His jaw sharply dropped, but before he could speak Shiro got everyone’s attention. 

“Alright, you guys. The show today was. . . incredible.” Shiro glanced at Lance, who was grinning and trying to catch Allura’s eye, “I must admit, when Lance and Allura began their . . . scene, I wasn’t sure what to think. But it’s safe to say hundreds of people were moved by their performance. That means hundreds of people were inspired to fight against the Galra Empire.” 

“Are you sure they weren’t inspired by my sweet moves?” Hunk asked, demonstrating a karate chop to remind everyone. 

“Or my protractor?” Pidge asked, flatly. 

“No,” Lance walked to the couch and plopped down between Pidge and Matt, wrapping an arm around both, “nothing is more inspiring than the power of love!” 

“Good thing you and Keith are so in love,” Pidge looked at Lance from the corner of her eye, with a small smirk. 

“Yea- No!” Lance registered what she’d said, and folded in his arms. “Me and Allura are in love. Right, Allura?” 

“Although I would have appreciated a warning,” Allura spoke from Shiro’s side, “I think showing the love between paladins, even in an embellished sense, is a wise way to spread our message of peace and equality. Great writing, Lance.” 

Lance couldn’t wait to rub his victory in Matt’s face. “Thanks, Princess. Well, I think I deserve a little break after such a successful day. Matt, let me show you the castle’s pool.” 

“I don’t have a swim suit,” Matt argued, while still getting off the couch with Lance. 

Lance grabbed his arm and started walking, “Great, we can’t swim in it anyway.” He nodded to the rest of the team, “You’re welcome, again, for my creative genius! See you guys at dinner.” 

Pidge watched them go, and loudly complained, “Why does my brother want to hang out with _Lance?_ He doesn’t even remember him from the Garrison.” 

“Oh, please, no one let Lance know that,” Hunk shuddered. 

\- 

“I totally won. I can’t believe I won! I mean, I knew I was going to beat you- but not so soon!” Lance bragged, sitting crossed legged underneath the pool. Matt sat beside him, leaning back with his legs stretched out. He watched Lance gloat with a serene expression on his own face. Lance continued, “Now you can’t flirt with Allura anymore.” 

“That’s right,” said Matt, “but if I said Allura was the only paladin I found attractive—I’d be _lion._ ” 

Lance stumbled, his words tripping off his tongue, “I, uh.” He gave his head the slightest shake, “Oh. I didn’t realize you and Shiro were-“ 

“Not me and Shiro,” actually, he’d had feelings for Shiro while at the Garrison (like a solid 80% of the school), but they were old friends. He hadn’t wanted to ruin that then, and certainly not now. Matt scooted slightly toward Lance, who he had no history with at all. The light reflecting off the pool cast a soft glow in the room. “Lance. . . what’s your last name?” 

“McClain,” Lance voice rose at the end, as if he wasn’t absolutely sure. 

“Lance McClain,” Matt laid on the charm, “you make my gamma rays burst.” 

Lance’s eyes searched Matt, finally landing on his mouth, his mouth that was currently altering between a straight line and a smile. Like he was trying not to laugh. That’s when it clicked. 

“You can’t flirt with Allura, so you want to flirt with me?” Lance shifted himself so he sitting up straighter and taller, “Very clever, Matthias.” 

“Matt isn’t short for Matthias,” he shook his head at Lance’s attempt. 

“But allow me to give you a fair warning,” Lance spoke with flair, “you have no idea what you’re unleashing here and now. I love flirting. Ask around on any planet Voltron has ever been on for more than 4 minutes. If you want to challenge me, the master of romance, to a flirt off, well. All I can say is, you must be wearing space pants. Because your butt is out of this world.” 

Matt threw his head back and clapped. He felt light hearted. It was a great feeling. After the Kerberos mission, he’d been in a constant state of despair. The only thought keeping him sane was of his mom and sister back on Earth, living happy, healthy lives. Clearly, he’d been off base, but being a paladin of Voltron was a pretty good alternative. Reuniting with Pidge was the best moment of his entire life, and seeing Shiro again felt incredible. Somehow, talking with this random boy he barely knew also managed to fill him with a happiness he hadn’t felt since Earth. Lance McClain. He was very glad he met Lance McClain. 

Matt continued, “Lance McClain, I look forward to flirting the paladin armor off of you.” 

Lance pointed a finger at his chest, “I will find out your full name, Matt Holt. Mattson Holt. Matt. . . Mattress Holt.” 

Matt let the laughter flow. 

\- 

Everyone was in a wonderful mood at Dinner. Pidge, because she’d just finished the final edit of tomorrow’s script, and was incredibly excited to see it staged. She knew she was a tech prodigy, but to discover that she a writing prodigy as well felt fantastic. Hunk was in high spirits because he’d just spent an hour playing a space version of Mario Kart with Lance and Matt. He’d noticed some weird comments between them occasionally, but he chalked it up to them trying to distract the competition. Lance had used pickup lines similarly in the past. 

“Shiro has great news,” Allura burst, unable to contain her excitement. 

“He’s getting a new haircut,” Matt guessed. 

“No,” Shiro frowned and tried to glance up at his bangs, “I- what’s wrong with my haircut?” 

“Nothing, Shiro,” Pidge promised, before kicking Matt’s shin under the table. Hair was hard to manage in space, and Shiro deserved some slack. Matt scowled at her subtly and reached down to rub his sore spot. 

Shiro refocused, “Anyway. The great news is, I spoke to Keith a little earlier, and we scheduled a time tomorrow that we could all catch up over video chat.” 

Hunk gasped with a huge grin, and Pidge almost started vibrating with excitement. Matt smiled at his sister, before glancing over at Lance, who looked considerably less enthused. Like someone told him he would be taking his piloting test tomorrow. He was looking forward to it, but seemed stressed and nervous all the same. 

“It’s going to be great to hear from him,” Allura gushed, “It feels like it’s been ages. Does he appear to enjoy working with the Blade?” 

“Yes,” Shiro nodded once, “And he’s really looking forward to talking with all of you!” 

He may be slightly exaggerating. Their conversation earlier had ended with something like this: 

Keith smiled, “Thanks for the update. Glad to hear everything’s going smoothly for you guys. I’ll call again in a few days with more updates on our movements.” 

Shiro smiled back at the screen, “It’s a shame you can’t talk for longer.” 

“Well, I need to be going. Lots of missions and training.” 

"Do you get time off for meals?" 

Keith rolled his eyes. Shiro did not appreciate that. “Yes, Shiro. Like a varga for dinner. Twenty dobashes for lunch.” 

“If you have that time off, why don’t you call back tomorrow during your dinner? Then you could talk to everybody else.” 

Keith didn’t look at the camera. He paused. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Shiro tried not to look hurt, but could tell he did in the tiny square showing himself at the bottom of the screen. 

“The team really misses you Keith. Everyone,” said Shiro. Keith looked back at the camera, with a blank face. Shiro wish there was a translate button for Keith’s facial expressions. Maybe he could bring it up with Pidge. 

“Yeah.” Keith finally answered. “Tomorrow at dinner. I’ll call you.” He disconnected the call, but not before catching the huge grin lighting Shiro’s face. 

“Keith really wanted to video chat tonight,” Shiro exaggerated to the dinner table, “but he had to run, unfortunately. Blade business.” 

“So did the Blade ask Keith to join?” Matt asked, eating another spoonful of goo. 

“No,” said Lance, tensely, “he asked them. Begged them. There was probably bribery involved.” 

Shiro shot him warning look, “Keith is a very talented fighter, and he spent about a month trying to balance both Voltron and the Blade of Marmora missions. But ultimately, it spread himself too thin. He decided to help the Blade full time.” 

“The first time they met, they forced Keith to do torturous trials. So, obviously, he was hooked,” Lance sarcastically explained. 

“They’re a good organization, with strict discipline and lots of hands on missions. Keith was drawn to that,” Shiro reexplained. 

Matt rubbed his chin, thoughtfully, “Do they fly with any ancient metallic animals though?” 

Lance held up his hands, thrilled, “Finally, someone else gets it!” 

\- 

They were backstage, this time at a mall. A little less glamourous than the theater yesterday, but the huge crowd was inspiring. The mall security guards actually had to be called in to stop eager fans from pushing their way to the stage. 

“Are you a polynomial function? because I want to study your curves,” Matt snuck up behind Lance and asked him. 

Lance turned around with a smirk, “Math is actually a turn off for me. Unless you’re talking about adding a bed and subtracting our clothes.” 

“You must be a 45 degree angle. Cause you’re a-cute,” Matt shot back at him. 

“What is going on here?” Shiro suddenly asked. Matt and Lance wipped their heads toward him, both looking strangely guilty. They weren’t aware anyone else had been listening. 

“I don’t know what it is, but it started yesterday,” Hunk added, which made Pidge and Allura stop talking and turn to the boys. 

“What started yesterday?” Pidge asked, looking at Matt. 

“I realized Lance and I shared a class together,” said Matt, deciding to just go for it, “Chemistry.” 

Pidge’s mind loaded the comment, and then her face scrunched up as tightly as it could, “Ew! Are you hitting on Lance?!” 

“He must be the square root of two, because I feel so irrational around him,” Lance smile and raised him eyebrows up and down toward Matt. 

“Oh, so you can do math pickup lines?” Matt folded his arms and the double standard. 

“Yes, because you’re actually into those, nerd.” Lance smirked back. 

“Ew!” Pidge groaned. 

“Paladins, we’re at places,” Coran entered from the stage, now that the audience had finally quieted down. 

Shiro started moving, “As long as you’re both . . .” 

“into it?” Matt supplied. 

“EW!” Pidge glared. God, it’d been bad enough when he was in love with Allura, but Lance was like, like a brother to her! And Matt was a brother to her! Those idiots. At least the script she wrote today would make Lance mad. Small victories. 

Shiro sighed at his friend, “I’m glad you’re both ‘into it’. Now, go find your seat.” 

“I’m not sure there’s any left!” said Coran, guiding the paladins to the wings. 

\- 

Their introduction was the same as yesterday, which was why Lance didn’t notice the script was different until it was too late. 

“It’s Zarkon!” Shiro shouted. 

“I know! I will rush forward and kill him by myself,” Allura did her best Keith impression. 

“No! We need to think about this logically!” Pidge cried, “Let’s calibrate the velocity his ship has, and determine where Voltron should be waiting to destroy it. Then we’ll need someone to collect secretions from the belly of a weblum.” 

“Lance, why don’t we go together?” Allura reached out a hand, and the crowd cheered. 

“No,” Lance did a double take and brought his script closer to his face. This wasn’t his writing. But then who- Hunk cleared his throat. Oh, right. He was performing in a public mall in front of hundreds of people. Lance frantically read the next line, “I don’t think we make a good team, Keith.” 

The crowd became suddenly silent. No more cheering. But they were all on the edge of their seats. 

Allura’s eyes were glued to her script, “What? But we had a bonding moment! I cradled you in my arms!” 

The audience shouted a mixture of ‘aww’s and ‘c’mon Lance!’ 

At this point, Lance looked up from his script and glared at Pidge, who had her arms behind her back and was blinking innocently. He knew she was the only one diabolical enough to come up with this. Shiro knew too, but not even his disappointed face could make Pidge feel guilty now. She was enjoying herself too much. Lance returned to his script, because if he improvised now the whole show could fall apart. Stupid Pidge. 

“Well I’m choosing not to remember our bonding moment, Keith. Because I’m scared that it meant more to me than it did to you.” Stupid stupid stupid Pidge. Sniffs began to fill the air from the audience. 

Allura followed her stage direction and walked toward Lance, “Lance, I know we’re just two teenaged boys from Earth with the emotional depth of a teaspoon. The only way I know how to express myself is through anger. But maybe we should try to be more emotionally available. Lance, the truth is, I’m tired of staring at your butt in secret.” 

Lance wrapped an arm around Allura as the script dictated, “And I’m tired of flirting with other aliens to make you jealous. Please forgive me, Keith. I love you so much, and it’s so obvious, and it’s annoying our teammates who are smart enough to notice it.” He spoke the end of the line looking over Allura’s head to glare at Pidge, who was trying to hide her laughter behind her Bayard. 

“Let’s start dating!” Allura cheered. The crowd stood, a standing ovation before the show was even completed. 

Pidge had the next line, “Now that Keith and Lance got their act together, we can end Zarkon’s evil reign! But first, let’s examine the science behind Quintessence. You see,” 

Lance, irritated and angry, scrolled past Pidge’s monologue and interrupted her with his next line. 

“You’re so smart, Pidge,” He said flatly. Then he read the next line, which was supposed to be Shiro’s, “Alright everyone! Get to your lions! It’s time to form Voltron and defend the universe.” 

Pidge glared at Lance, furious he’d skipped her line, but he just glared back. Trying to keep the show on track, Shiro, Allura, and Hunk pantomimed their Voltron formation. Lance and Pidge reluctantly joined. With a pretend punch, the paper machete Zarkon burst into confetti. 

The audience stood again, whooping and hollering. A man in the front row started throwing flowers onto the stage. Once again, Lance and Allura got the loudest applause, but Lance couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Lance didn’t acknowledge the wild fans, didn’t acknowledge Hunk’s worried look, and didn’t even speak until the castle doors closed and he turned to Pidge. 

“What was that?!” He demanded. 

She jutted out her chin, “Why did you skip my lines? I wanted to teach people about the science behind this war-“ 

“Well maybe I didn’t want to teach people about my ‘emotional depth’,” Lance fired back, furious. 

“Oh so you’re allowed to make up stupid lines for you and Keith, but no one else is? Double standard.” 

“Yesterday was completely different.” 

“Yeah, because yesterday was completely fake,” she argued. 

Allura intervened. “Pidge, you need to check with Lance ahead of time to make sure he’s comfortable saying his lines.” 

“He didn’t check with me-“ 

“And Lance,” Allura cut her off, “we only have time for a few more shows before Voltron is needed in the action. Going off script was risky, because we need to make every show the best it can be.” 

He folded his arms and huffed. “Yeah.” His eyes cut back to Pidge, “I’m sorry.” 

She reluctantly nodded, “I’m sorry, too.” 

Hunk, Shiro, and Coran looked relieved that the fighting was over. A match between Lance and Pidge could’ve been frightening. The castle door slid open, and everyone turned to see Matt entering the ship holding a medium sized brown box. 

“Hey,” Pidge ran to meet him, and stood on her tiptoes to see what he was holding. “What’s with the box?” 

Matt smiled with a devious look in his eyes, “This man I sat next to was selling these. Once I told him I was your brother, he gave me a whole box for free.” 

“What is it?” Lance asked, getting closer. 

Matt let the box drop to the floor, and then rummaged inside. He pulled out a t-shirt with 6 arm holes and two neck openings, obviously designed for specific species. It was white fabric, maybe cashmere, and it had purple block lettering in a language none of them recognized except Coran, who gasped. Then he began laughing so heartily he had to grab his belly. 

“What does it say?” Shiro asked, looking from Matt to Coran. 

Matt answered first, grinning, “Keith and Lance in love forever.” 

Lance grabbed the tshirt out of his grip, while the other paladins had a nice laugh. 

\- 

Keith’s room with the Blade of Marmora was like a bruise- all shades of black and purple. The walls were sleek, the top halves made completely of screens that were now turned off. His bed was in the center of the room, roughly about the size of his old one in the castle, but with no sheets or pillow. Just a black comforter. He’d been rolling up his red jacket as a makeshift pillow, and it was fine. He supposed he could ask someone, or go back to the castle and steal his old pillow, but he didn’t want any of the members of the Blade to know. 

He hadn’t made any friends, because none of the Blade really did the friendship thing, which was fine. Keith didn’t really do that either. 

Dinner had just begun, and he was sitting on his bed with his communicator clenched in his hand. He didn’t want to do this. Stupid Shiro, guilting him with his sad expression. He knew those wide eyes would work on him, they had since the Garrison. He held up his communicator and tried to get a grip. This was fine. This was fine. 

His door slid open, making him jump and drop his communicator to the floor. It was Vark. 

“Keith. I was wondering if you wanted to walk toward the mess hall with me,” Vark asked, with planted feet and perfect posture. Keith chided himself for being caught off guard and picked up his communicator. He knew why Vark was asking. Every time he saved someone’s life on a mission, there was usually a three day period where they’d go out of their way and try to repay him. 

“No, thanks,” said Keith, “I’m about to call my- um, the paladins of Voltron. My old team.” He wanted to smack himself. In Voltron he’d been the quietest member, but at the Blade he talked and rambled more than the rest of the organization combined. He needed to break this habit of oversharing. 

Vark nodded and stepped back, “Give my deepest thanks to Voltron. I watched the live transmission of their show.” 

Keith still hadn’t gotten around to watching that. He really didn’t want to. 

“I better call before it’s time for hand to hand combat,” Keith said instead. 

Vark looked like he was going to be sick. When he spoke, it was like an enemy sniper had a gun to his head, forcing him to say, “We. . . could arrange a meeting between you and . . . your fellow paladin. If you. . . miss him deeply.” 

Keith titled his head, but Vark had disappeared toward the mess hall before he could figure out what that was all about. As his door slid closed, he figured Vark had been referring to Shiro, because he’d heard their conference call. He readjusted himself on the bed, not liking that thought at all. He didn’t want any of the Blade to think he wasn’t Galra enough, weakened by his previous attachments. 

Without a second thought, Keith started typing on his Communicator, selecting the castle and pressing enter. The wall behind his bed lit up, just waiting for the castle to connect. Keith could see himself in the screen, in his charcoal suit with purple glowing lines across his chest. This didn’t have to be painful. He could just say a quick hi and disconnect. It would be fine. 

The castle connected, suddenly pulling up a view of Shiro, the closest to the camera with a huge smile. Allura was looking over his shoulder, eager. Pidge was farthest left, trying to lean past Hunk who was on the verge of happy tears. Coran was farthest left, with his hands on his hips, looking incredibly satisfied. Finally Keith’s eyes landed on Lance, who was grinning next to a guy that looked exactly like Pidge. 

“You found your brother!” was the first thing Keith said, sitting up, heart bursting for his friend. Pidge nodded, dazed with cheerfulness at seeing Keith. 

“Matt, this is Keith,” Pidge said, smiling despite the fact she wished she could have introduced them earlier. 

Matt narrowed his eyes, and pushed himself closer to the screen. Then he gasped, “Wait. You didn’t tell me Keith was _Shiro’s_ Keith!” 

“Shiro’s Keith?” Pidge raised an eyebrow, and Keith tried to decide if it would be worse to flush or glare. Of course. Now he remembered Matt. Sort of. He remembered Shiro had a friend named Matt. But Shiro had a lot of friends. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t make the connection,” Shiro put a hand on Matt’s shoulder, and Keith glared at him for ignoring the ‘Shiro’s Keith’ comment. He was not Shiro’s Keith. 

Matt nodded like it was all coming back to him, “You’re the insanely talented freshman who Shiro mentored. It’s great to see you, again. God, you must be like, what, 16 now?” 

Keith flushed, “18. Actually.” 

“Keith, are you enjoying the Blade of Marmora?” Allura asked, a hand on her heart. It was overwhelming to see Keith again. She was so glad he was alright. After playing him these last two days, she felt she could understand him on a deeper level. 

He’d never been so thankful for a topic change, “Yeah. We’re going to be training again soon, so.” 

“Wait! We just started talking!” Hunk moved closer to the screen, “What’s your bedroom like? Are you in your bedroom now? What are the bathrooms like? How do they get their food? Do Galra take showers?” 

“Yes,” Keith cut him off before this turned into a game of 200 questions, “Galra definitely shower. And for food they serve Nen. Which is basically space goo.” 

“I’ll send you a container of mine,” Coran spoke up, full of love for the boy, “I bet you miss my cooking greatly.” 

Keith tried to smile, and discovered he didn’t have to try very hard, “Thanks, Coran.” 

“Have you been able to access all the Galra only tech?” Pidge asked, scooting closer. 

“Yeah,” he responded, “there’s been no problems. And their fighting techniques are amazing. I’ll be learning more hand to hand combat in a few ticks.” 

“Well don’t go!” Pidge blurted. “You have to tell us about, er, who else is in the Blade? Is everyone nice?” 

“It’s more about working individually to accomplish tasks,” Keith explained. He thought back to how many times he’d been reprimanded for going back for a member instead of leaving them behind, but decided not to mention it. “It’s different.” 

“Have you found out anything about your past?” Pidge asked, gently. 

He lowered his gaze, “No.” He hadn’t brought it up and no one had mentioned it. Keith decided if it was wise to tell him, they would. There was a beat of silence. 

“Well,” Hunk spoke up, “our Voltron shows have been going great.” 

Keith looked up, “Oh. Someone mentioned them to me earlier.” 

“They did?!” Lance blurted. Keith’s eyes met his gaze through the screen. It was the first thing Lance had said this entire call. The first thing he’d heard Lance say since he left. 

“Something about a live transmission,” Keith said, unable to look away from Lance. It was so much easier to stare when it wasn’t it person. Easier to forget why he shouldn’t. 

“Ah, yes,” Coran happily spoke, “I’ve been broadcasting the shows to any satellite that wishes to connect. We want to reach the largest audiences possible.” 

“People have been loving it,” Pidge said with glee, “They love the confetti, the storyline, the-“ 

“Okay, we don’t need to bore Keith to death,” Lance stopped her from going into dangerous territory, “He quit Voltron, he doesn’t want to hear more about Voltron. How’s the weather there?” 

“We’re in a climate controlled spaceship,” Keith said flatly, “so it’s good.” 

“I’m surprised they let you keep the mullet,” said Lance, letting his eyes study every pixel of Keith’s face. “Are they going to make you get yellow contacts at least? You know. So you can go full Galra. Have your ears gotten pointer?” 

Keith reflexively covered his right ear with his hand, before scowling and shaking out his shoulders. He kept forgetting they could all see him. “I don’t know, Lance, has your head gotten bigger?” 

“It must’ve,” Pidge spoke up, “after all the applause he’s been getting every day for-“ 

“Are you wearing the official Blade of Marmora costume?” Lance asked, loudly and quickly. 

Keith felt the familiar clench of annoyance that had been absent from his life for the last month, “It’s not a costume. It’s armor.” 

“This look is missing something,” Lance pursed his lips, deep in thought, “like thick black eyeliner and a My Chemical Romance shirt.” 

“Speaking of shirts,” this time, Pidge was cut off by Keith. 

“Are you finally wearing the red paladin armor?” Keith snapped, “to match your new lion?” 

“No, no one is wearing red. I’m still wearing the blue suit,” Lance replied sharply. 

“It’s a shame,” Matt suddenly joined the conversation, “that blue suit would look so much better on the floor of my bedroom.” 

Pidge squeezed her eyes tight and physically gagged, Hunk rolled his eyes with an amused smile, Allura gasped and lightly covered her mouth, Shiro did his classic disapproving look and folded arms combo, but the only reaction Keith noticed was Lance’s. Lance, who brightly smiled and slapped Matt on the back. 

“Mattford Holt, you sly dog,” Lance playfully gave him a nudge. 

“Mattford is not even close. It’s not even a real name.” 

Hunk gave a wry smile to the camera, “Just ignore them, Keith. They’ve been like this for a while.” 

Keith moved his hands below the camera’s view, so no one would see them clench up. 

“If you were words on a page,” Lance was completely focused on radiating sex appeal to Matt, “you’d be _fine_ print.” 

“I’m glad I brought my library card,” Matt countered, “because I’m checking you out.” 

“Matt, please, date anyone else in the galaxy. I’m begging you,” Pidge whined, because of course Matt had to choose the only boy in the universe more unbearably cheesy than him. 

“You’re dating.” Keith wasn’t asking a question. His face was perfectly blank, but his low, calm voice still made everyone give him their full attention. As if they remembered he was here. 

“Just some good old fashioned flirting,” Matt wrapped an arm around Lance’s shoulders and squeezed. Lance smiled at him and cuddled closer, “Do you get weekends off, there? Has anyone caught your eye?” 

“No,” Keith said darkly, “because I’ve been working on defeating a galatic empire. There’s no…weekends off.” 

Allura stepped toward the camera, “Perhaps you could request some time off. You don’t want to overwork yourself, Keith. You are still human. Half human.” 

“If you asked for tomorrow off, you could come see our show!” Pidge sat up, reenergized at the idea of seeing Keith in person again, “We’re performing on Burrom.” 

“No,” Lance blurted so adamantly, every head turned toward him. “Keith. Uh, Keith doesn’t want to see our stupid show.” 

“Agreed,” Keith stood up and walked toward the screen, ignoring Pidge’s disappointed face. 

“You don’t have to watch it,” Allura offered, “but please, stop by. For dinner.” 

“I’m sure I could work something out with the Blade,” Shiro offered. 

Keith huffed out a dry laugh, while opening up a new window on his screen, “You don’t need to speak for me, Shiro. I really need to go now. It’s time to train.” 

“You sure you can’t skip it?” Hunk asked, sadly. “Just for tonight?” 

Keith’s finger hovered above the disconnect button. 

“I’m sure he doesn’t want to keep his blade buddies waiting,” Lance said, stepping away from Matt and toward the screen, “Or waste more of his time with a bunch of useless paladins.” 

“Lance,” Allura and Shiro chastised in unison, then looked at each other slightly surprised. 

“I’ll call you in a few days, Shiro,” Keith spoke, quietly, before disconnecting the feed. 

The paladins, Coran, and Matt stared at the black screen. The first person to move was Pidge, who twisted around toward Lance. 

“The first time we’ve talked to Keith in a month. A month. And that’s what you had to say?” 

Lance folded his arms, defensively, “Why is all the blame on me? Keith hasn’t talked to us in a month, because Keith didn’t want to talk to us for a month. That’s not my fault.” 

“But he finally calls, and you spend the whole time being mad at him,” Pidge accused. “What if he doesn’t call again?” 

“That’s his choice,” Lance started to say something else, but stopped himself and walked toward the hallway, “and if Keith comes to the show, someone better rewrite the script.” The door slid closed behind him. 

Pidge sat down on the couch and Matt joined her. Shiro patted Hunk on the shoulder. 

“Want to try your hand at playwriting?” Shiro asked him. 

Hunk gulped, “Yeah, sure. Cool cool cool. How hard could it be?” 

Allura came up beside them, “Did you think Keith looked a little thinner than usual? Around the face?” 

Shiro considered it, “Maybe. He’s mentioned their intense workout routines.” 

She frowned, “I’m going to tell Coran he should send some goo.” 

\- 

Keith stared at his black screen, and then sprawled out, stomach down on his bed. 

This was why. This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to call them. 

He thought after a month, he might have been able to forget his talks with Hunk. How the guy had a way of making him feel instantly better, brighter, more optimistic. Or forget about how protective he was of Pidge, who was so young, so bright, that he was proud to even know her. He wanted to forget about Allura, who had overcome a lifetime of prejudice just to support him. A support so strong, it made the universe a little less scary. He didn’t want to remember Coran, and his quirky, yet calming presence. His ancient stories, his whole-hearted laugh. 

He knew he’d never be able to forget Shiro, the first person he ever completely trusted in his entire life. But he’d hoped he would’ve been fine with limited contact, superficial conversations under the guise of coordinating plans between the Blade and Voltron. 

He hadn’t wanted to call them. Because seeing their faces, even on a screen, was like a taking a pickaxe to his heart. It unleashed a flood that he didn’t want to swim through. Seeing them again, hearing their voices, it was too much. He didn’t want to remember the life he’d had. 

Keith hadn’t even begun to think about Lance. 

Lance, who had a boyfriend. Matt. He struggled to remember him from the Garrison, and could only conjure up a mop of hair and oversized glasses. Now, he could only replay the image of Lance balling up his stupid blue suit and tossing it onto Matt’s floor. Which room was Matt even staying in? Maybe it was his. The image replayed itself, and Keith wished he could take a real pickaxe to his own head. 

Seeing his Voltron family had been torture. Like seeing every type of milkshake after two weeks of starving in the desert. Keith would know, because he’d had that exact fantasy in a desert before. But seeing Lance had destroyed him. 

Keith didn’t even know what he wanted. Would it have been better if Lance was miserable without him, begging him to come back? Would it have been easier if he and Matt had gotten married, and Lance was completely happy? He clenched his black comforter in his hands, and firmly decided that Lance and Matt, together, was not what he wanted. 

But maybe it was for the best. 

If Keith had remained a paladin, he wouldn’t have remained with black. That’s why he initially pulled away, so Shiro could regain his rightful leadership role. And while Keith didn’t know what he wanted, he knew Lance was an important paladin, a team player, and a great friend, in ways Keith could never be. So he left, removed himself from Voltron, before Lance could get any funny ideas about leaving himself. 

Keith’s communicator lit up. It was a message from the Commander, alerting anyone who wanted to join that hand to hand combat training was beginning in 60 ticks. Keith didn’t get up. Though his thoughts were spiraling into a deep, dark, tangled mess, he managed to fall asleep, without a pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the wonderful comments! :) I'm glad you're enjoying the story!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Matt take a stroll down memory lane, while Keith and Lance sTRUGGLE

It was the middle of night on the ship, and Matt couldn’t sleep. The problem was more than just nightmares. He suffocated on anxiety every time he closed his eyes. He heard screams and the echo of blasters. They were the same stresses he’d had at the rebel camp, but back then he’d had the thought of finding Pidge and his father to give him purpose and distraction. Now that he’d reunited with Pidge, he had unlocked a new, paralyzing fear of losing her again.

He didn’t want to wake up Pidge, or anyone else. Everyone deserved as much sleep as they could get. These past few days Pidge had been catching him up on their past adventures, which exhausted him just to hear about. When she mentioned Keith he could tell she really missed him. It was still hard for Matt to relate the quiet boy from the Garrison with the red paladin of Voltron in Pidge’s stories. 

“Matt?” it was Shiro, standing in the doorway of the control room. Matt was sprawled on the couch, but sat up immediately. 

“What are you doing up?” Matt asked, pulling his legs in so Shiro had room to sit on the cushion next to him. 

“I. It’s. It’s difficult to sleep, some nights,” Shiro sat on the couch, and stretched his arms above his head, “But I guess you’d understand that.” 

He nodded. Matt used this perfect opportunity to study Shiro while his guard was down. He was still taller than him. It had been almost four years since they saw each other last. Matt had been eighteen. It felt like a million years ago. It felt like yesterday. Matt let his eyes stay transfixed on Shiro’s scar, determined not to think about the ways he could have gotten it, but his imagination vividly, horrifically, wouldn’t stop guessing. He forced himself to look away, and started staring at his mouth. It hadn’t changed at all. How old was Shiro now? 25? 

“Hey,” Shiro said softly, and Matt physically jolted, now realizing Shiro had been staring, studying him this whole time. 

“Hey,” Matt replied, thinking about how lucky he was. How two years ago, a month ago, he’d only been able to dream about seeing Shiro again. 

“I’m not quite sure how to phrase this,” Shiro began, always a terrible sign. “But I need to know. What’s really going on between you and Lance?” 

Matt blinked, and straightened up. “What?” 

“I don’t mean it in a negative way,” said Shiro, quickly and comforting, “I don’t mean to, this isn’t me reprimanding you. I just wanted to know.” 

He laughed with a huff and looked at Shiro like he was crazy, “There’s nothing serious between us. We’re just messing around. For fun.” 

“Right. You always did love meaningless flirting. But I just wanted to make sure you and Lance were on the same page, because Lance tends to dive head first when it comes to romantic-“ 

“Wait, whoa.” Matt put a hand on Shiro’s arm to silence him, and they both stared at the other’s face. “Since when do I ‘love meaningless flirting’?” 

Shiro glanced to the hand on his arm, and back at Matt’s face, “Since the Garrison.” 

“The Garrison?!” Matt crinkled his nose, a signature Holt move, “I’m sorry- did we attend the same Garrison?” 

Shiro chuckled, “Okay, c’mon, Matt. You were a huge flirt, and it never meant anything.” 

“I’ve never been called a flirt in my life!” Matt was suddenly wide awake, like he’d just downed a pot of coffee, “Prove this hypothesis. How was I a flirt? I probably talked to a total of four people at the Garrison, and one of them was you. One of them was my dad.” 

“Take me, for example,” said Shiro, matter-o-factly, “You used to invite me over to your dorm late at night. You bought me a flower on Valentines Day. And for my birthday one year you gave me a coffee cup that said ‘I hope you day is as nice as your butt’. That’s flirty.” 

“I can’t believe you remember that,” Matt felt himself turning as red as the flower he’d given Shiro as a stupid, stupid sixteen year old with a crush on a nineteen year old. Obviously, Matt remembered it. He’d spent, like a lovestruck idiot, an hour in the student shop debating between the pink or red rose. But he didn’t think Shiro (who had received three weddings worth of flowers) would remember for more than five minutes, much less four years. 

“Of course. I still miss that mug,” Shiro’s mouth quirked up at the corner, and Matt gave him a small shove. “But even though your flirting doesn’t mean anything, you should still take Lance’s feelings into consideration. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.” 

“You think I’ll hurt him?” Matt asked, softly and a little surprised. He thought Shiro would know him better that than. Maybe too much time had passed. 

“Not intentionally,” He couldn’t meet Matt’s eyes, “It’s just, sometimes you send out mixed signals, and a guy can get confused. And he could get his hopes up, and it can get complicated. For Lance, I mean.” 

Matt sat, and thought, in silence for a bit. Then he turned his full attention back to Shiro and said, “Okay. I’ll keep that in mind. Now, will you please consider this a formal apology for every awful, cringey attempt at flirting I’ve ever forced upon you.” 

Shiro grinned, “I know you were never serious.” 

He covered his face with his hands and groaned, “I can. Not. Believe. I actually bought a you a coffee cup that complimented your ass.” 

“And told me to have a nice day,” Shiro patted Matt encouragingly on the shoulder, which only encouraged him to grab a pillow and burry his face in shame. Shiro tried to gently pry the pillow away, but Matt clung tight with the desperation of an embarrassed man running on 24 hours of no sleep. 

“Let’s change the topic,” Shiro strained to alleviate his friend’s tension, “let’s forget about the past. We can talk about now." 

That was promising. Matt raised his head, “Alright. Pidge has been filling me in on the details of Voltron.” 

“It’s been a crazy year,” Shiro reflected, “Do you want to tell me about your time with the rebels? It must be difficult to talk about with Pidge. She’s so young.” 

“But she’s not,” Matt put the pillow to the side and brought his knees to his chest, “That’s almost harder. She’s changed so much. The last time I saw her, years ago, she was eleven. And now she’s a defender of the universe, which is amazing, obviously. But I can’t believe I’ve missed so much.” 

“You don’t have to miss anything else,” he promised, adjusting himself so he was closer to Matt on the couch. 

Matt titled his head so he was face to face with Shiro again. His face was so bright, so hopeful, that for a second he was once again the older student who helped Matt move his boxes into his dorm. His smile identical to the smile he used to get when they’d finally finish their calculous late at night in the library. Those homework assignments they could’ve finished hours earlier, if only they hadn’t gotten distracted in conversations ranging from eating vegetarian to whether or not aliens could dance. He may have had a new scar, but Matt did, too. So in a way, it was like nothing had changed at all. 

“Do you remember when we used to talk about aliens?” Matt asked, suddenly recalling the debates they’d have over X-files marathons in Matt’s dorm. 

Shiro snorted in surprise as the memories came rushing back, and suddenly he was laughing. He started shaking with laughter, his head thrown back against the couch. It was late, and his laughs proved infectious as Matt joined in. They stayed up the rest of the night, recalling happy memories, and exchanging notes on the various species they’d come into contact with. Matt told Shiro stories he hadn’t told anyone yet, and he listened with complete focus and a sympathetic ear. Shiro debriefed Matt on his disappearance, on the stress that he didn’t want to burden the team with. He confessed how much he worried about Keith working for the Blade. They talked and talked and laughed and talked until the lights begin to rise in the castle, signaling their 8 hour sleep cycle was coming to an end. 

It was the best night Matt had in the castle yet. 

\- 

There was a show today on Burrom. Pidge noticed Matt yawning more than usual, but when she asked about it he said it was because he was tired of Shiro’s stupid haircut. 

Lance was carefully reading through the script Hunk had written last night, just on the off chance that Keith watched the show or (God forbid) actually came and saw it. Once he was satisfied that there was absolutely no romance, he gave his friend a huge hug and congratulated him on his literary masterpiece. 

“Just a classic story of two platonic paladin friends,” Lance praised Hunk. 

“Could you tell I based it off that conversation you told me about?” Hunk excitedly questioned. Lance nodded. 

“Yeah, it’s almost word for word the way it actually happened. You’re genius to think of that. You know, I bet the audience will like this even more than our stupid romance. This way, I’m still single, and they can date me!” 

“Babe, are you talking about dates?” Matt asked, joining in their backstage conversation. They had reached a new level of the ‘flirt off’ where cutesy pet names were officially introduced. Each boy got a point for a completely original name, and an extra point if it made Pidge vehemently react. Lance: 10, Matt: 8. 

“Hello my baby carrot,” Lance wrapped an arm around Matt’s shoulder, making Pidge abruptly stop talking with Allura, turn around and gag. Lance awarded himself another point. What could he say, he was a creative genius. “If you were a drink, you’d be soda. Because you’re so-da-licious. And if you were a fruit, you’d be a fineapple.” 

Matt shot Hunk an exasperated look, “How does he come up with these?!” 

Hunk shook his head, “I’d rather not think about what goes on in that twisted, romantic brain of his.” 

“Come up with a food pick up line right now, or I win,” Lance challenged, confidently. 

Matt scrambled for a moment, and then his face turned perfectly serene. He leaned and spoke softly, just to Lance, “Are you a raisin? Cause you’re raisin’ my d–“ 

“Paladins to places!” Coran burst into the backstage room, stopping every conversation, “It’s time for places!” 

Matt waved and headed toward the door leading to the audience, giving Pidge a high five for good luck on his way out. Hunk dragged a flustered Lance toward the wings, while Allura, Shiro, and Pidge opened their new scripts for the first time. 

They were back in a theater, this time larger than their last two venues combined. The crowd roared as each paladin stepped on stage and introduced themselves. Lance glanced at the front row while Shiro began a monologue about teamwork and justice. People, mostly light green with bright orange hair, were all squealing and holding up signs he couldn’t read. From the amount of glittery red hearts, he had a sinking suspicion of who the posters were for. 

Finally, it was Lance’s line. He stepped forward with gusto, “Keith! I have a problem.” 

The audience burst into applause, and Lance couldn’t wait to finish the scene. Then they’d finally see that he and Keith were completely platonic. 

“What’s wrong, my fellow teammate?” Allura asked, with a pinched expression. 

“Well Keith, I feel like I don’t belong on the team. I feel useless, like there’s one paladin too many. There’s seven of us on the castle. Do you really need my help?” He faced toward the audience, and pretended to be a sad dog from an SPCA commercial. Maybe for the next show Pidge could create some fake tears for him to squeeze on. The audience were shocked into silence at Lance’s confession. He didn’t need tears, afterall. Their hearts were totally breaking for him. “I’ve been doing some math and, I’m the leftover. The useless variable,” Lance concluded, his eyes dropping to the floor. He remembered this conversation all too well. And what Keith had said then- 

“Lance, you’re a very important member of this team. Everyone in the whole universe has different skills, and everyone can help fight against the Galra’s dictatorship. You may feel useless, but it’s not true. You’re an amazing pilot, but even more importantly, you’re an amazing friend. You hold this team together, and keep everyone in high spirits. It doesn’t matter if there’s seven, or seventeen, or seven hundred people in the castle. There’s only one Lance, and we need him. Everything else will work itself out.” 

Lance smiled at Allura, “Thanks, Keith.” 

“From now on, let’s leave the math to Pidge,” she responded, returning the smile. 

It started with one girl in the front row. She jumped to her feet, while everyone sat in confused silence. She started wildly clapping, and chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Like a wave, the rest of the front row stood and applauded, and each row followed, until over a thousand audience members were cheering and demanding a kiss. 

Lance and Allura stood, utterly confused. Lance felt his stomach drop. Why did the audience think this was romantic? This was so not romantic. This was the opposite of romantic! This was an actual conversation, more or less, that they’d had. He wanted to run off the stage. The demand for a “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” grew louder, only to fizzle out as Hunk spoke his next line, 

“It’s time to form Voltron!” He shouted. 

“We can defeat Zarkon if we all work together!” Pidge laugh between words at the audiences’ obvious annoyance that there would be no kissing. 

They did their Voltron formation choreography, which Coran had recently rechoreographed. Lance did a cartwheel, while Allura did the splits and Shiro and Hunk threw Pidge into the air like a cheerleading stunt. Then they shuffled into their Voltron positions, and Hunk kicked the piñata-like Zarkon head, ending the show with a shower of confetti. 

Lance felt panic clawing at his throat. What if Keith saw this? And even if, by some miracle of his own obliviousness, he didn’t see _this_ show- what if he saw the next? After this fiasco, Lance knew that no matter what the lines were, the audience would find a way to see romance between them. 

This was terrible. If Keith saw this, he’d be furious. He might start to think back and analyze Lance’s past actions. He might start connecting the dots, which would then form a very clear picture of Lance’s true feelings. Keith already quit Voltron, before he knew about Lance’s stupid, pathetic, gross crush. If he actually found out, Lance would lose any chance he had at seeing Keith again. He couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t risk it. But how could he convince the audience to stop shipping him and Keith? 

Lance cursed under his breath, and he bowed before an adoring audience. 

\- 

Keith had been cornered on his way to the training deck. He stood with his back against the wall, staring up at two of his Blade of Marmora teammates. Well, they didn’t really do “teammates” around here. His two fellow Blade of Marmora members were intently staring him down, anxiety raiditating off their tense bodies. 

“Is this about Vark?” Keith asked, with a clenched jaw. He’d already gotten reprimanded by his commander for risking the mission by returning to save Vark, but Keith didn’t regret it. And if these two had a problem with it, he didn’t care. 

The two Galra weren’t wearing any masks, and their hoods were down, so Keith could clearly see their bright yellow eyes blink in surprise. 

“We wanted to speak with you,” said the Galra on the right, extremely vague. “Away from the commanders.” 

“About what?” Keith was not feeling any more relaxed by the huge soldiers in front of him. What could they possibly have to say? 

“Brom and I,” said the Galra on the left, gesturing to his partner, “we’ve been watching the Voltron Show. Every broadcast.” 

Keith wished they had pulled him aside to kick his ass. Surely that would be less awkward, and easier to understand, then the conversation they were having now. “Oh,” Keith said lamely, “Yeah. That’s my old team.” 

“Yes,” Brom sounded pleased, and Keith had no clue what was supposed to be said. As he often asked himself in times of confusion, What would Shiro Do? 

“Thanks for supporting Voltron,” Keith said, and immediately cringed. Why did he feel like his hair was suddenly slicked back and he should be kissing a baby? This was exactly the political bullshit he wanted to stop doing. He wasn’t good at it. 

“No, we want to say thank you,” Brom said quickly, “because you and the blue paladin have inspired Tidd and I to try new experiences. Experiences we didn’t think were possible during war.” He and Tidd shared a look, soft and shy. 

“We owe you much, Keith” Tidd added, still looking at Brom with a fond expression. 

“Oh. Okay,” Keith glanced toward the training deck, wondering if they’d notice if he walked away now. 

“You and the blue paladin are extremely brave,” Tidd looked back at Keith, solemnly. 

Keith shrugged his shoulders, “Uh, thanks. I should really get in some training before our next mission, so.” He nodded as a final goodbye and started walking away. Tidd and Brom raised a hand in goodbye, both soldiers squeezing in more ‘thank you’s before Keith turned the corner and they were out of sight. 

Keith grabbed his black tape and started wrapping his hands for today’s workout. He bit the tape to cut off the piece he needed, while mentally replaying the strangest conversation he’d had all week. Him and the blue paladin, Allura, must have some pretty amazing stunts if strong, big, stonefaced soldiers Tidd and Brom liked it so much. He only wondered, if he was a character in the Voltron show, who was playing him? Coran? Matt? Lance would just love that. Maybe they’d share a dressing room. Keith, for maybe the millionth time, visualized the image of Lance letting his blue suit fall to Matt’s floor. Or maybe they hired a half-galra Keith impersonator to play him, so Lance could still ‘have someone to make fun of’. Keith walked up to the closest punching bag and started swinging.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every comment I get makes me so so happy! :) I just want to say thanks to anyone and everyone who reads this :) :) :) 
> 
> (and why is this becoming a Matt x Shiro fic uhhhhhhmmmm)


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